A Different Person
by sherotterlocked
Summary: AU Balletlock! Sherlock is a completely different person when he dances. Just a bit of fun, please Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock didn't usually get tired doing ballet. It relaxed him, stopped him thinking for a little while and just let him be himself. Here, at the studio, anyone who knew Detective Sherlock wouldn't recognise him. He was so different here; he was kind, friendly, funny. He was that person. The person everyone wanted to be friends with. The talented but not arrogant one.

He was under a fake name of course, but anyone with half a brain could work out it was him. He smiled to himself as he opened his water bottle slowly, letting the cool water rest on his lips for a while.

"Hey, Will, " it was Mica, his main dance partner. Will was his fake name, of course, taken from his first name (William Sherlock Scott Holmes). She slumped down next to him, "God, I don't know about you, Will, but I'm knackered." She grinned, "You look dead, mate. Wanna go to the bar afterwards?"

Sherlock looked at his watch, John thought he was at a case so it didn't matter when he would be back. However, it was five and he had been gone for almost eleven hours now.

"Fine, a quick one. I have to... Go somewhere."

She looked confused, "you always disappear. Where too?"

He grinned, "now that will be telling." Tapping on his nose, he got up. "Now if this really is going to be a quick one we better hurry."

"Fine, "she got up too. The whole dance group wanted to know about where 'Will' went after practice, Sherlock knew that they even took bets. "Fine, but one day, swear to God, I will find out where you go."

"Stalker."

"No, just interested party."

They both grinned. Sherlock picked up his dance bag and swung it over his shoulder, "be right back, I have to get changed."

"Why? You're only going home, aren't you?"

"Not telling!" Sherlock shouted, walking out of the studio, "get the others together, will you? I'll have a beer. It's on me!" He then slammed the door, Sherlock style.

Sherlock strolled into the bar, his lanky form towering over everything else. He had his usual suit on, which was not strange for him but he guessed for his dance friends it was, from the whistles and smirks he got.

"Going on a date, Will?" Asked Milly, a small girl they used for lifts. She blushed as he sat next to her (her not-so-secret crush on him apparent).

"What?" Sherlock was confused, "oh, no, these are my... ummm... Home clothes?" He lifted his voice at the end, signalling that it was a question.

"Really?" It was Tim, one of the groups oldest members, like Sherlock.

"Yes," Sherlock leaned back, "yes they are."

He grinned at them, "what do you guys wear around your houses then?"

They a replied, "dance clothes," collectively.

"Oh," Sherlock was genuinely shocked but was pulled out of it with a light punch of the arm.

"You're a posh guy! Knew it! I knew it!" Mark grinned (another of the older members).

"No I'm not! Well... Urh," Sherlock sighed, they were always like this.

"Well, you're so amazing at ballet and dance that I suppose you would."

"I'm not that good."

"Will! You're amazing! How can you not believe us still!"

"I find it hard to believe, that is all. Now," he looked at the clock over the bar, "I really have to go now."

They all said,"where?" But of course, there was no reply.

John was sitting on his chair, cup of tea in hand and reading the paper. When Sherlock opened the door he turned and gave Sherlock a questioning look,

"Where have you been?"

"Huh?" Sherlock flopped onto his chair and threw his bag of dance clothes as far away from him as possible.

"And what's in the bag?"

"You're certainly asking a lot of questions today, John."

John sighed, "did you solve it then?"

"What?"

"The case. You know, the one you have been on for eleven hours."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "do we have any food?"

"I'm never going to get a straight answer from you am I?"Sherlock smiled in answer and got up, walking into the kitchen.

After finding some brownies (made by Mrs Hudson) Sherlock walked over to his chair again. John was on his laptop, grinning.

"Why are you smiling? Stop smiling." Said Sherlock.

"I've booked us to go and see a ballet."

"Oh?" Sherlock tried not to look to interested, "what of?"

"The nutcracker. It's not a famous group, I don't think, but apparently there is this amazing lead man in it."

"Oh," said Sherlock, looking away. His group where doing the Nutcracker. Wouldn't it be funny if-

"Says that the guys name is Will."

Sherlock took a sharp intake of breath, getting him a odd look from John.

"You okay, Sherlock? Cause you've gone green."

Sherlock stood up and started walking to his room, "I'm... Fine..I think."

John didn't look convinced, "Sherlock, if you have been experimenting with poison again..."

"No!" Sherlock jumped, "no, no, no I don't think that's it."

"You don't think?"

"I... Know so. I'm fine, just," Sherlock waved to his bedroom, "long case. Need sleep."

"Hungry and now tired?" John laughed, "well that's new. Go to bed, Sherlock."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "you're not Mycroft, you can't tell me what to do

"Yeah but you're gonna do it anyway."

In answer, Sherlock slammed the door to his room and fell asleep almost instantly.


	2. Chapter 2

The music started and Sherlock jumped up landing in a neat arabesque, smiling to himself. With the competition in two weeks he was completely ready. Nothing could go wrong. He started to spin still with one leg in the air, twirling faster and faster until he felt his partner, Milly, behind him and he stated to spin a little slower, neatly holding her by the hips and lifting her higher and higher into the air, going faster and faster, until she was flying like a swan.

The music became louder, more dynamic and emotional. Sherlock and Milly did Fouettes, pirouettes and echapes, leaps and attitudes until the music slowly died down and they swirled to the floor. Suddenly, the music flared up again and Sherlock spun up again, pulling Milly with him as they pirouetted in time with each other, speeding up as they did three Chassés away from each other, landing with one foot Infront of the other in a Coupé. Sherlock then completely froze on a attitude, holding it for three seconds then slowly freezing in a Demi-plie. Milly was doing her solo piece at that moment, meaning that he had to be completely still. When she had done, Sherlock did a perfect Grand pirouette followed by two Grand Jetés as Milly froze in the same fashion as he did. Sherlock then did a few more chassés and picked Milly up, holding her frozen in a half attitude. They then did a promenade down centre stage and Milly delicately jumped

ut of his hands. Then, as the piece ended they did several Sautes (jumps) followed up by chassés and finally they ended up together on the floor again. Sherlock s chest heaved and Milly collapsed on the floor next to him. Around them their group was clapping at them, patting their backs.

"Will, that was... Perfect," said Tim, "do that in the competition and you will win, for sure."

"Hey, I did it too!" Said Milly.

Tim grinned, "you were good too, I guess." Milly gave him a death look, "amazing, I mean. Definitely. You two, together, amazing. "

"Unstoppable," said one of the newcomers, Sherlock didn't know his name.

Sherlock lay back and groaned. His ankle was on fire. Halfway through the practise he had twisted his ankle and now it felt at least twice it's normal size.

"Shit," he muttered, propping himself up against the wall.

"Huh?" Tim turned around, "you ok, Will?"

"Who the hell is Wi- oh yeah. Shit sorry. Yeah im okay. I think." Sherlock winced.

"Did you seriously just forget your own name?" Tim was confused.

"Yeah, well your mother is sleeping with-" Sherlock s hands flew to his mouth as he cursed. "Oh shit I'm sorry!" He exclaimed. Before be had joined ballet he had promised never to do the deductions there. It wasn't the right place. Tim looked worried now.

"What did you just say, Will?" He cocked his head, "what are you doing?"

Sherlock was clutching his hair and shaking his head in a very Sherlock like manner, trying tk stop deducing them all. "Just..." His ankle flared up again, whatever had happened was not just a sprain.

"Will are you okay?" Asked Milly delicately.

Sherlock wanted to snap at her and call her an idiot but that was not something Will would do. Instead, he closed his eyes and counted to ten.

"Okay. Okay right. Milly, in my bag is my phone. Can you get it for me?"

She nodded and pulled one out of his back, "this?"

Sherlock looked at it briefly and shook his head, "I have two, the other should be in the inside pocket of my jacket."

"Why do you have two?"

Sherlock didn't answer, instead he groaned as his ankle spasmed and hit the floor. When he saw his phone he stretched his shaking hand to get it. Milly didn't move.

"You are in no way fit to call someone."

"How?"

"Your hand keeps losing control you could break the phone. Besides, I want to know why you are being so secretive about this."

"Now is not the time to find out about my life!" He half shouted.

Milly still held the phone, "shall I call 999?"

"No! For a hundred different reasons no!" Sherlock bit his lip.

"Fine, fine, fine. But I need to call someone. " She looked sceptical. "Who?"

"You need to unlock it first." Sherlock stopped himself from calling her an idiot.

"Fine. What's the password?"

Sherlock hesitated, "5646. There. Now, go to contacts."

Milly looked excited, "ooo let's look in Wills phone!"

"No!" Sherlock shouted (which hurt) "just scroll down until you see the name-"

Sherlock stopped. These people may be obsessed dancers but they still read the news. They would recognise the name John Watson. They might have even recognised him but Sherlock was acting, he wasn't Sherlock in this room, they would think him as a doppelganger.

"The name?" Milly asked.

Sherlock looked at her, "the name John Watson please."

Half the dancers faces flew up, their breaths catching as they heard the name. He was famous, after all. Some of them must read the blog. Well, some of them definitely did, judging by their bags

Milly looked confused, "I know that name."

"Just ring him!" Sherlock snapped, his leg was killing him. "Quickly!"

"I'm doing it I'm doing it, " she said, scrolling through the phone. Tim turned to him and looked directly into his eyes.

"Your name isn't really Will is it?"

Sherlock thought. Technically, it was, there was no lie in saying that.

"It is actually."

Tim looked at him and raised his eyebrows. "Fine, Will. I will get you some water."

"Thank you," said Sherlock, feeling bad (for once) "but, you know, Tim. Will isn't my only name."

Will stopped and looked at him before nodding and walking out of the door.

*incoming call from: Sherlock*

John sighed and picked it up, Sherlock had only called him an hour ago. Then again, they did need some milk.

"Hello? Hi, Sherlock we need milk."

"What?" John was surprised. This wasn't Sherlock. It was a woman. A young one, but still a woman.

"Wait who is this?"

"Are you John Watson?"

"Yeah and who are you? No wait- where is Sherlock?"

The girl sounded surprised, "My name is Milly and as far as I know I have never met a Sherlock before."

There was a pause before John said, "then why are you on his phone?"

Milly stopped talking and there was a muffled shouting in the background, "look, John. My friend Will wants to talk to you. I am using his phone so... Look here he is-" she handed him over.

"John?" It was Sherlock. Almost definitely Sherlock. His voice.

"Sherlock? Sherlock is that you?"

"Yes." Sherlock, without knowing it, changed his whole body to look like Sherlock. For the dancers he was no longer Will. He was a different man.

"Sherlock are you okay?"

"Fin- I mean no. No I'm not. I've hurt my ankle... Running," Sherlock got a lot of confused looks from the dancers, "initially it was a twist but now I think it is possible that I have torn a ligament."

"How the hell did you do that running?"

"Not the problem right now, John. Look, I'm in a café ill text you the address," more confused looks, "can you come? I need to go to Barts."

"For a case or the ankle?"

"Both. I need to give Molly-" some dancers raised their eyebrows, "I need to give Molly the test results of that..." he looked around at the people listening intently to him, "thing I did a while back."

"Sherlock why are you being so secretive?"

"I'm not! Just come and get me please?"

"Since you asked so nicely." John hung up.

Sherlock looked up at the group of faces staring at him.

"Where is the nearest café?"


	3. Chapter 3

Judging by the dancers faces they all had a million and one questions to ask him. Sherlock really wasn't in the mood. Hoisting himself up, Sherlock hopper over to his dance bag and look his ballet shoes off, replacing them with some trainers that he often used on cases. Momentarily, he glanced at himself in the wall mirror and sighed. He looked like he had been undercover on a case, but he still didn't look like himself. Hopping over to his locker, he pulled out his beautiful belstaf coat and put it on.

There, he thought. Now at least he didn't look so suspicious.

"Hey, Will?" It was Milly, standing Infront of the huddle of dancers watching him. Her face was grim, "Will, what's happening?"

Sherlock paused, "I'm going to the nearest café."

"You know what I mean, Will. Please."

Sherlock hopped over and picked up his bag, "and then I'm likely to go to hospital, my friend is a doctor you know."

"WILL!" It was the first time Sherlock had ever heard her raise her voice, "Will listen to me! You have been here eight years and suddenly-" she paused.

"Yes...?"

"Suddenly I can't trust you."

Sherlock stopped what he was doing and stared at her for a long time. The only noise was the clock ticking in the far corner over the lockers. Leaning against the wall, Sherlock spoke,

"Milly, in my life I am constantly trapped by who I am, " she looked confused, "I am a mean, heartless bastard that no one likes, well, I say no one. When I walk into a room I can count the people who trust me on one hand. I can count the people who like me on less. But then, Milly, imagine for one second that I could escape. Imagine that for a few hours a week people, all people, liked me. Not just respected, but liked! Milly, it's amazing! I had friends! Of course, my other life is still one I live in, don't get me wrong I do love it. My job is amazing, I can use my mind for good things, but sometimes I need an escape. In good time I will you about the other me, some of you might already know. But please, can you help me to the café? Please, Milly?"

Milly bit her lip, "you have no friends?"

"I don't have friends, "she looked shocked, "I've just got one." Sherlock smiled at that thought, then winced as his leg flamed again.

"Am I your friend?"

Sherlock paused, "you wouldn't be if you knew me."

"I know you here. Is that good enough?"

Sherlock paused then nodded. Milly smiled, "let's get you to that café."

Sherlock sat at the table, tapping at the tea Milly had bought him. She sat there too, waiting with him. Sherlock felt like he should say something, but every time he opened his mouth nothing came out. In the end, it was Milly who talked,

"You're friend said that you needed milk." She was surprised at the smile that came to his face.

"We always need milk."

"Oh. Are you-?" She looked awkward.

"What?"

"Are you and him-?"

Sherlock laughed again, "we share a flat, Milly. Every one thinks we are though. Everyone..."

"Oh."

There was silence again. Milly spoke first after a while,

"Do you want me to stay?"

"I don't mind, do you want to stay?"

She shrugged, "I don't want to mess things up any more than they already have."

"You can't."

"What?"

"In my line of work he will consider this a... case. You may be a client or one of my..." he refrained from saying 'network', "...people."

"Who are you, William?"

Sherlock smiled, "well that's what we all want answered isn't it?"

He looked sad so Milly stopped talking again, until a blonde haired man walked in wearing a creme jumper. He looked around and Sherlock straightened himself, looking less like Will now. Sherlock waved weakly and as the man walked over said,

"Hi, John."

So this was John Watson. He looked okay, thought Milly.

"Hi... Sherlock," there was that name again, Sherlock. Who was Sherlock? John was looking at her now, "what's your name? I'm John Watson by the way, " he reached out his hand, which she shook.

"Milly Cartwright," she said, " are you Will's friend?"

Sherlock then spoke, "she means Sherlock and yes, Milly, John is my friend."

"Your name is Sherlock?" She asked.

John sat down and looked at both Sherlock and Milly," Sherlock please explain."

"No. Not right now."

"Case?"

"Not exactly, John."

John sighed and muttered something about a quiet life. Milly knew he could trust him

"Right, let's get you to hospital then. I have the stuff for Molly."

"Whos Molly!" Milly looked at John, "what's happened to Will?"

Sherlock turned to Milly," you remember what kind said a while ago, Milly?"

"Yes."

"Please remember that for now. I promise you will know. And just remember, " he tried to get up, "Will isn't my only name."


End file.
